Gone But Not Forgotten
by Meln
Summary: An Emperor's Hand is sent home to Naboo to assassinate a Rebel leader but finds more than she bargained for.


Body The tooke trap was crushed by her boot as she disembarked her ship. She picked up the russet-furred tooke that the carnivorous plant had been threatening. The tooke was safe now. She stood at the foot of the landing ramp for a time, watching a peko peko soar high above the reknew trees that enclosed the clearing in which she had landed. Small shaaks scurried between the tentacle ferns that camouflaged them well. 

It was good to be home, she thought. 

Despite Naboo's idyllic beauty, vacation was _not_ the reason for her return. She had a job to do. 

But any job in which she could punish the Rebels, make them feel the pain they had inflicted upon her, was vacation enough. It would be fairly simple anyway. All that was required of her was to infiltrate the Rebel outpost and kill one man. 

Killing one man would be child's play. She was, after all, almost an Emperor's Hand. Trained from childhood to ruthlessly and secretly destroy her enemies, she had no qualms about killing one single man. She would have preferred to destroy the entire base, but the Emperor had told her not to unleash her rage on the Rebellion yet, no matter how much she wanted to. 

These Rebels were the ones that had killed her family. 

When she was six years old, the Rebels executed every single person in her village except for her. Her life had only been spared because she had been found by an Imperial governor, who took her straight to the Emperor. 

These Rebels were responsible for widespread destruction of the galaxy -- and her own home. Yes, the beautiful forests still stood tall, but there were vestiges of the pain everywhere. Each breath she took remembered her parents and her quaint village. Everything she knew, everyone she loved, all obliterated in a single hour by the Rebel Alliance. Death whispered to her with the sound of the breeze. 

The massacre of hundreds by the Rebels would not be balanced by the death of one man. But she could guarantee that with the death of "Booyaka," the pain would ease as she began to avenge the deaths of so many at the hands of the Rebellion. 

Melné Cr'tor would see to it. 

*** 

The Emperor had assigned Melné to kill this "Booyaka" two days before: 

Melné had reported to the Emperor's throne room as soon as she heard his call. "Yes, my master?" 

"You have done well on all other missions I have sent you on, my young apprentice," the Emperor said. "This one will require more of you, however. You will have to go back to Naboo." 

She inhaled sharply. She would do as her master wished, but going to Naboo would dredge up painful memories. It was probably just a test, she told herself. To see how loyal I am. 

"There is a small Rebel cell there. The same one that killed your family. There is a young man working with them now and he has already become the leader of the entire base. He poses considerable danger to the Empire. You will be sent there to eliminate him." 

"Yes, my master." 

"Here is the datadisk that contains all the information you will need. Good luck," he added with a wry smile. 

"Thank you, my master." 

Melné glanced at the heading. This Rebel was calling himself "Booyaka?" That was rather cocky, naming himself after a mythical creature who protected the galaxy from corruption. If he thought he could upstage an Emperor's Hand-in-training... overconfidence was going to bring him to his destiny. This mission was going to be fun. It would be _revenge_. 

*** 

Creeping through the dense foliage, Melné saw no immediate problems. The Rebel outpost was small, probably not housing more than a hundred. The building was roughly pentagonal, as far as she could tell, and had a satellite dish capping it off. Painted in subtle greens and browns to camouflage, no doubt. 

It seemed to be very simple: an outpost for gathering information and passing it on. Why would the Emperor bother assassinating a messenger? Unless he was a former Imperial and knew state secrets... no. Melné knew that the _real_ reason the Emperor had selected her was to see how she worked with all the negative emotions the return to Naboo would bring. She was positive it would be her final test before he declared her an Emperor's Hand. 

Something itched at the back of her awareness, but she let it slip. The question still remained: how would she get in? If there were any security system installed -- which she doubted -- it would probably be within a hundred-meter radius surrounding the base, which meant at her distance of two hundred meters, she could sneak around undetected, trying to find the best possible entrance. 

Of course. The roof was flat, and several trees provided easy access to it. She couldn't tell if there was some kind of hatch or if she would have to cut one with her lightsaber. But going in through the roof meant all the sentries she'd bypass would still be alive to detain her. 

The sunlight filtered through the reknews and zaelas to dapple the base, making it so shadows would be extremely hard to detect. 

_That_ was what was wrong. The base seemed... dead. No guards anywhere. It was as though the Rebels had been expecting her. 

Melné shook the thought out of her head. There was no possible way they could know. And their ignorance would be the death of them. 

She slowly advanced her position until she was in the forest just by the clearing, about twenty meters away from the nearest point from which she could be spotted. There were no defenses whatsoever -- that much was crystal clear. 

Which meant the roof was the best way in. 

She unhooked her lightsaber and ignited the red blade. Selecting a strong reknew tree, she carved some footholds into the trunk and climbed up to the canopy. For the second time that day, she marveled at the beauty of the Naboo forest. But only for a moment. 

She tested her weight on the closest branch to the building. It snapped. The next one would hold her, though, and she carefully crawled its length until she dangled precariously at its tip. 

Melné let herself fall, and executed a somersault midair, landing firmly in the center of the Rebels' roof, making almost no noise. There was no hatch, which was not surprising. 

Igniting her lightsaber once more, she set to work cutting a hole in the ceiling just large enough for her to slip through unnoticed. After several minutes, the hole was nearly complete. She levitated the piece slightly above the surface of the roof, making the last cut; and gently set it aside. 

She lowered her legs into the hole, and dropped straight into a Rebel corridor. 

*** 

The room to Melné's immediate left was empty. To her right, there was a control panel. She studied it for a moment, remembered its location. Later she could make a datadisk copy of the files and slice it back on Imperial Center. The central computer, on the other hand, could contain valuable information. She made a mental note to find it after killing "Booyaka." 

Down the hall, there were several rooms arranged in an arc. Using the Force to veil her presence, Melné arrived there. The first room she tried was an empty sleeping area. She did a quick survey of the room and wrinkled her nose. It was so... disorganized. An appropriate metaphor for the Rebellion. 

The more cavities of the base she searched in, the more she found... _empty_. Had they been expecting her? She smiled at the thought. How could they be? Maybe she should destroy this entire base. After, of course, copying the central computer. 

The Emperor's mind-connection penetrated the light-years: //No, my Hand. But do trace their communications. I wish to know where they are being sent. That would be very... useful.// 

Of course! She had to kill the ranking officer here, so he would probably make secret communications to the other Rebel bases. Now all she had to do was _find_ the blasted comm room. 

She then realized -- with a touch of glee -- that the Emperor had just called her 'Hand.' That probably meant he intended to promote her upon completing this mission -- she just knew it. It was all she could do to keep from shrieking with delight -- like any normal fifteen-year-old. And -- 

--_ There_. The communications center. And she could feel a human presence there, which she hoped was the one she was searching for. Slowly, she advanced towards her target. Once in the doorway, she ignited her lightsaber and the blade sprang to life. At the _snap-hiss_ sound, the room's sole occupant turned around -- 

He looked to be around her age, which didn't matter; but what troubled her were his eyes, a piercing gold. Just like -- 

No. It couldn't be. 

_Ender_. 

*** 

It couldn't be. Ender was dead, murdered nine years ago by the kriffing Rebels. How could he possibly be _here_, with _them_? But how could it _not_ be him? No one else in the galaxy that she knew of had golden eyes like Ender's. This -- this _Rebel_ looked exactly like her childhood friend. But it was impossible. 

"You're dead," Melné finally said, her voice quivering. 

"What? Melné? I thought _you_ were dead!" 

"But the Emperor told me..." she realized she was still pointing her lightsaber at Ender's throat. She powered it off and the brilliant red blade disappeared. 

"The _Emperor_?" Ender's eyes went wide. "How...?" 

"I am the Emperor's personal assassin," she blurted out. "And... he sent me here to kill _you_." 

For a long moment the two regarded each other. Much had changed. They were both fifteen years old now, and apparently on opposing sides of a galactic war. There was no way either one would hurt the other, but the fact that she worked directly for the Emperor and that he was one of the most threatening to the Empire caused tension. 

The lightsaber slipped from Melné's shaking fingers. She could _never_ kill Ender. That the Rebels had killed him and their families was one of her core beliefs -- the need for revenge on the Rebel Alliance. And now that need was shaken. If Ender could join those who supposedly killed him, then something was _very_ wrong. 

She finally found her voice: "Ender... how could you be... are you really... one of _them_? A Rebel? What did they do to you? I can help you -- I'm sure my master --" 

"Your _what_?" 

"I do as the Emperor tells me. He prefers that I call him 'Master,' but he took me in when they killed our families -- and he told me they had killed you -- and he protected me from the Rebels. It was only natural I would want to repay him for his kindness." 

The disgusted expression registered on Ender's face immediately. "The Rebels didn't kill our families -- the Empire did!" 

"No! They would never do that!" she cried. 

At this point they were yelling, and some of the Rebel officers overheard them. Where had they been? Three entered the room and took her weapons as she stood frozen. 

One of them said, "Ender? Are you all right? We can interrogate --" 

"No!" he yelled. "Leave her with me --" 

"You know that we at least have to put her in the detention block. Calm down. I think you need some rest." 

Ender nodded slowly. "Go... ahead." 

As the other two dragged Melné out of the communications center, she heard the Emperor's voice in her mind. Repeating over and over, //You have failed me. You will kill "Booyaka."// 

She turned her head, and, through the tears, she saw Ender staring after her with a sad expression on his face. 

//You will kill _Ender_.// 

"NO!" she screamed. "No..." 

As darkness slowly crept over her, Melné heard a voice. 

//You will kill Ender...// 

*** 

Groggily, Melné Cr'tor lifted her head from the cold floor. Where was she? Her blurred vision quickly cleared as her memory returned. The Rebel detention block. Of course. She was endangering one of the Rebels' top commanders -- no, the _highest_-ranking officer at this base -- so it only made sense for them to imprison her. 

Suddenly, she was aware of a warm presence nearby. She turned slowly -- and there he was. Sitting right outside her cell, Ender smiled. 

"You must've been tired. I've been sitting here for" -- he checked his wrist chronometer -- "ten hours." 

"What am I doing here?" she asked. "Proper procedure dictates that you would --" 

"To hell with 'proper procedure.' I'm in charge, so I make the rules. And I say no one gets to interrogate you except for me." 

She looked at him sideways. "Oh, so I'll just tell you what the Emperor is planning because I wouldn't kill you?" 

"You already told me why you're here and your position in the Empire," Ender said pointedly. 

She sighed. "This is such a mess. I don't know _what_ I was thinking when I said that." 

"Well, for starters, you could tell me how you could possibly believe that lying --" 

"He told me the _truth_. And the Rebels lied to _you_." 

Ender grabbed her hand and sandwiched it between his. "Listen. I don't know why the Emperor would have wanted to spare you from execution, but the only reason _I'm_ around is because I was too young for them to notice escaping. Melné, I _watched_ the Empire kill everyone we used to know." 

"The Emperor told me that your Rebellion killed them. That's why I swore to avenge you." 

"Yeah?" his voice rose. "So you kill one Rebel. Then another, and another, and what happens after you've avenged your family?" 

She didn't like what he was insinuating. She made her _own_ choices, and she would know when to stop -- or would she? 

"You'll be nothing but a _monster_ by then," he continued. "All you'll know is murder, and you'll be the Emperor's puppet." 

"No, it's not like that." As she said the words, she doubted herself immediately. 

"You want the truth?" 

She shook her head. "Not a fabrication of the truth. Not whatever they told you." 

"They were stormtroopers. They..." he blinked back his own tears. "They lined up our families and friends and shot them. One by one. If you don't believe me --" 

"I don't," she replied. 

"Then you can see for yourself." 

He produced a pocket holoprojector and typed something into the keypad. It scanned through still shots of Ender's parents, sister, and Melné herself until it settled on the account of the executions. The Rebels had made a really good fake. She wondered -- just a little -- if it didn't look _*too*_ real. Could it be? 

"No. It can't be." 

Ender shook his head. "Look for yourself. I had to watch everyone I knew or cared about _die_. At the age of six, no less. But I guess you'll think whatever you want. It's going to be hard to convince Wy -- I mean, Commander Khol not to interrogate you, but I'll try." 

The thought came, unbidden: //You will kill Ender.// 

He released her hand. "Good night, Melné. I hope you can believe me." With that, he got up and walked out of her view. 

//You will kill Ender.// 

"Stop it!" she cried. "Shut... up." 

If the Empire really _had_ done that... then whose side was she going to be on? The very same Rebellion that had been the source of all her anger, but was perhaps showing her the truth; or the Empire she had served for nine years, perhaps all of them a lie? 

But if _she_ was right, then she would have to make a different decision. Would she follow her master's orders; or would she try to help her friend? 

//You will kill Ender.// 

*** 

After three days, it was practically a ritual. Ender would be with her when she awoke, hoping that she would believe that the Empire had slaughtered so many helpless people. Not just on Naboo. _Everywhere_, Ender had told her. Everywhere in the galaxy. 

Then she would tell him that the Emperor had been her family when she had none. He couldn't possibly rule an Empire that did everything the Rebels thought. She _knew_ him. The Emperor would never massacre people -- her own _family_ -- not ever. 

Ender would leave, and she would hear her master's voice: //You will kill Ender.// Over and over again. She would fall asleep hoping to escape the command. And the next morning would be the same. 

Not this time. 

Melné woke up, and Ender wasn't there. As she often did when she was worried, her fingers brushed the ring that hung around her neck. She supposed the leader of a Rebel cell had more important things to do than try to convince prisoners that the Rebellion was good, but it hurt nonetheless. She had come to _expect_ him to be there. What if -- 

No. The Emperor wouldn't send an agent to find out what had happened until she had been gone more than a week. He wouldn't send another assassin... or would he? Just how crucial to the success of the Rebellion _was_ Ender? And, more importantly, just how crucial to the Emperor was _she_? 

Melné hadn't noticed before, but the damned holoprojector was still there. Playing the "execution" vid in an endless loop. If she could just crack the code -- 

Of course. She _had_ seen him enter the password. She typed in "Melné." 

Yes. All of the files were open to her. She scanned through what seemed unimportant -- 

And stopped dead. Ender had a whole directory dedicated to _her_. Holos. And letters. She read the first one, dated seven years ago. Just two years after they had presumed each other dead. It detailed the executions and his joining the Rebellion. It _could_ be another elaborate fake. But it was a letter that Ender had written -- posthumously -- to her. She continued. At first they were one every few months. The letters increased in frequency until he was writing one per week, then one per _day_. And he started to reveal deeper emotions. A year ago -- the day before she had arrived -- he had written: 

_Dear Melné,_

_All this time you've been dead, I wondered why I missed you so much -- more than my family, even. But now it's clear to me. Melné, I love you. That's all there is to say, I guess. I just wish I had realized this when you were still with me._

_Love,_

_Ender_

She stopped reading after that. It explained why he was trying so hard not to treat her like a prisoner. And why he wouldn't let Commander Khol -- whoever he was -- interrogate her about the Empire. 

Ender loved her. 

And, Melné was surprised to realize, she loved Ender. 

Which could mean only one thing. She had to trust him. She couldn't listen to the Emperor's voice in her head. He _was_ telling the truth. For nine years she had served an Empire that she thought was glorious. But the Empire was... evil. 

"Ender," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." 

"Thanks." 

Melné turned toward the bars of her cell and saw Ender sitting there, grinning. 

"When were you going to tell me you were here?" 

"When you figured it out for yourself." 

"I'm really confused right now, but I do want to help you. You were right. The Empire is evil, and I don't want to be a part of it any longer." 

With that, a female officer -- the same one who wanted to interrogate her from the comm room, she realized -- handed Ender the keycard. "I told you she'd break soon," she whispered in his ear. 

Ender just opened the cell door and walked in. Melné collapsed into his arms, and they stayed there for a long while. 

*** 

The next day, Ender gave Melné a tour of the base. 

"The reason you didn't see anyone around when you got here is because the soldiers were all doing field drills," he explained. 

Melné raised an eyebrow. "Field drills?" 

"You know, sneaking through the forest, simulated ground and space battles, that sort of thing. Most of the other officers had to watch and evaluate their progress. But being in charge has its rewards." He winked. "I get to send a bunch of transmissions that mean absolutely nothing to various worlds in the middle of nowhere." 

"I see. Is that what you do in the comm room?" 

"Yeah. Come on, I'll show you." 

The comm room seemed much more complex than before. Or, she told herself, back then she was focusing on more than just Ender. She reddened a bit at the thought. 

"And that's it. The other Rebels don't know where we are and we don't know where they are. It's safer that way." 

"What about those barracks?" 

"Oh, you probably looked in on the pilots' quarters. No wonder you had such a bad impression of us Rebels. They're notorious for being..." 

"Disorganized." 

"Exactly." 

"So," she said thoughtfully, "do you sleep in a room like that or what?" 

"Only the pilots and soldiers and really low-ranking officers do. We leaders-of-our-own-base-types get our _own_ quarters. See? Right this way." 

They followed a path Melné hadn't taken before and got to a separate vestibule with four doors. Ender slipped his keycard into the lock of the nearest one, and the door slid open. 

"My room is probably not like you're used to, but I hope you can put up with it for a while," he told her. 

"You mean... I'm going to stay with you?" 

"Why not?" 

Melné considered for a moment. She supposed it would be all right until there was a more permanent place to stay. But -- she felt foolish -- Ender was a guy and she was a girl. That meant it could get _weird_. No, of course not. Ender wouldn't be like that. Her cheeks reddened again. 

"I suppose it's fine until you can find me a room." 

"Uh, what you see is what you get. You can stay with me indefinitely, or you could sleep in the pilots' room." 

"Oh. You, then." 

He smiled. "I hoped so." 

*** 

Because Melné hadn't brought anything with her to the base, it didn't take long to settle in. In fact, she was wondering what happened to her only possession -- her lightsaber. The officers had probably put it where she could never find it. 

"Ender, where's my lightsaber?" 

"Commander Khol probably has it. I'll introduce you." 

He knocked on the adjacent door. It opened. Standing there was the tall, blonde woman who had whispered in Ender's ear when Melné was released. What had she said? Something about breaking things? She couldn't remember. 

"Melné, Commander Khol. That's proper, right?" 

Commander Khol laughed. "You can call me Wynni. Ender thinks he has to sound professional, but it doesn't fool you, does it?" 

"No... Wynni," she said, irritated. "I was wondering about my lightsaber." 

"Oh, that. I have it somewhere." She rummaged around behind the door and pulled it out. "I'm not sure you want this back, do you?" 

Melné was shocked. "Of course I do!" She took the proffered lightsaber and hooked it onto her belt. "I don't really feel safe without it," she added. 

"Maybe she just needs to feel a little more comfortable with us before she stops carrying it," Ender suggested. 

"Melné, I'm sure Ender has already offered for you to stay with him, but if you'd rather, you can sleep in my room," Wynni offered. 

"Oh. No, thanks. I'm fine." 

"All right, then. Have a good afternoon," she said as she closed the connecting door. 

"This is great," Ender said, lying back on his bed. "You really hit it off!" 

Yeah, thought Melné. Whatever you say. I don't trust that woman with my lightsaber, let alone my life. 

*** 

The following morning, Ender awoke only to realize Melné was not with him. 

"Melné?" he asked, afraid there would be no answer. 

"Yes?" she asked from behind him. 

He turned around, only to see her floating several feet off the ground in a lotus position. 

"What _are_ you doing?" he breathed. 

"Oh, this." She smiled. "This is called using the Force. The Emperor taught me. I think my skills might atrophy unless I practice." 

"And why would you want to float around?" 

"You Rebels actually might find one of my talents _useful_ someday," she replied. 

"Us Rebels," he said, annoyed. Turning his attention back to the floating, he asked, "what else can you do with the Force?" 

"I'm surprised you don't already know. Basically, the Force is the invisible strands that bind the galaxy together." She blinked, as though she had spoken too quickly. "The Force is found in all living things, but Jedi -- as I've been taught -- use the Force as a tool. As do I, but I don't know about my usage being 'good' or not. I can float solid objects a bit, but only if I can see or feel them. I can pull very basic thoughts off others' minds, and I can use it to help my reflexes a bit." 

Ender realized his mouth was open, and he closed it. "You can do all that? Wow, am I glad you're on my side." 

She was blushing. "It's nothing, really. My mas -- I mean, the Emperor can make lightning come out of his fingers. Darth Vader can choke people. I can't really do anything useful -- or well." 

Ender grasped her hand. "Can you float me?" 

She seemed surprised. "Um, I can try. I don't know how much I can float. The most I've ever done is myself. I'm not sure I can keep us both in the air." 

She seemed uncomfortable, so he said, "That's all right. You don't have to if you don't think you can." 

"I think for now I should just meditate, but maybe soon I'll be able to float you." 

"That would be nice. But don't push yourself," he warned. 

"Of course I won't." She smiled innocently. 

*** 

Melné was tired of meditating. 

She had been honing her Force skills all day, or at least since Ender had left. He had to speak in some boring Rebel meeting via comlink. She couldn't understand why he had to send jumbled communications to them, but _could_ speak to the main base with a comlink. Especially if he wanted to keep all his transmissions secret, but a comlink could be easily bugged. If the Rebels worked in such confusing ways, she wasn't sure she'd _ever_ get used to it. 

A knock on the adjoining door interrupted her reverie. 

Should she get it? It must be Commander Khol, and she couldn't put her finger on it, but something about her just seemed wrong. But Ender liked her, so Melné would humor him. 

She opened the door. 

"Hi," said Khol. 

"Hey." 

"Well, since Ender won't be around for another few hours, I'm sure you need some clothes. Unless you plan to wear that for the rest of your life." 

Melné glanced down at her black jumpsuit. "Well..." 

"Come on, you need _something_ else." 

"Where are you going to get clothes for me?" 

"I have some." 

She eyed Khol. The woman was at least five inches taller, and a few years older than her. "Would it fit?" she asked. 

"I have some things. Come in," she added. 

Melné looked around Khol's quarters. They were sparsely decorated and well-organized. In fact, they were reminiscent of Melné's own Imperial quarters. 

Meanwhile, Khol was pulling out a few outfits. Three jumpsuits, a simple dress, a jacket... all of which looked _exactly_ like the clothes Melné would wear on Imperial Center. And then Khol produced a stunning dress. 

"Try it on," she urged. 

Melné went back into her -- no, Ender's -- room and slipped out of her jumpsuit and into the dress. Opening the door, she asked Khol what she thought. 

"Look in the mirror." 

It was so beautiful... Ender would love to see her in it, she thought, grinning. It was a multitude of shades of blue that seemed to change as she moved. It reminded her of the ocean. There was a cutout in the back, and it was low in the front. It was very long, but Melné thought it was supposed to trail on the floor. Just the kind of dress she had worn in the Emperor's court. 

"I could never wear it," Khol said, almost wistfully. "It was too tight. But it looks great on you. I think you should wear it to dinner with Ender." 

"You mean we can just go into Theed and eat at a fancy restaurant and no one would recognize him as being on the Imperial death list?" 

"Sure! You think the Alliance would establish a base on a planet that didn't have a lot of people willing to harbor them? Most of Naboo supports us. Not many Imperials ever come here -- except for you. But do you like the dress?" 

"Very much. Are you sure?" 

"Take it, and the jumpsuits. I have plenty of clothes. You left everything at Imperial Center, I guess." 

How did Khol know she was from Imperial Center? How did she know Melné didn't have a whole wardrobe on her ship? How -- 

"Come on, I'll get the two of you a reservation. Besides," she winked. "It's a very rare occasion that Ender wears _his_ dress uniform, and I think you'll want to see that." 

Melné sighed. She supposed it was all right to get comfortable here. It was her home now, and Khol probably wasn't as bad as she thought. She was just jealous Khol had all these years with Ender, wasn't she? 

*** 

Across the fabric of space, a tremble of darkness in the Force could be felt. Emperor Palpatine clenched his fists tightly together. It hurt, of course; the dark side of the Force was beginning to corrupt his body again. He would have to switch to one of the clones eventually. However, that particular item on his agenda would wait for another day. 

Melné Cr'tor. 

He seethed with rage. He had spent nine years on her -- less than most of the others; he had given Mara Jade fifteen years of training, which amounted to the total of Melné's life. The Emperor had her taken from her home at the age of six; murdering her entire village as she left. Like the other Hands, she had been trained for absolute loyalty to him. 

Apparently, that meant nothing to her. 

He willed himself to calm down. He had been bored lately with the Empire's progress against the Rebellion. The Rebellion could never put up much of a fight, and it was just a petty nuisance to him at present. Perhaps letting her join the Rebels would make their defeat all the more interesting. 

And all the sweeter. 

*** 

Ender smoothed his jacket for the hundredth time in two minutes. It seemed like an eternity, but Melné finally emerged from his room. 

She looked positively stunning. 

"Wow," was all he uttered. 

"You look pretty good yourself, Rebel. Let's go to dinner." 

They had been in the speeder for less than a minute when Melné said, "I'm cold." 

Ender shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her bare shoulders. 

"Yeah, well, that's what you get for looking so good," he teased. 

In Theed's courtyard, he was acutely aware that they were the youngest couple there, and people recognized him. It was hard to be the leader of a Rebel base on a planet that detested the Empire and _not_ be known, but he hoped his position wouldn't get them in trouble. Recognition was the last thing Melné needed. 

"All right," he said. "We have arrived." 

They were dining at a _very_ expensive restaurant, the Chak-root. He had only been there once before, with Wynni. He was grateful to her for organizing this. He made a mental note to thank her later. 

Once they were seated -- in a corner, thank goodness -- they ordered their food. 

"So, how is my gorgeous ex-Imperial?" 

She giggled. "Ender! This is beautiful. The candlelight, the music..." 

"Great." He kissed her hand that was resting on his, then blushed fervently. Who was he to do that? Here she was, this beautiful woman, sitting in the Chak-root across from him, and he was acting like a teenage idiot. 

"You're not listening to me, are you?" 

He blushed more, if it was possible. He hadn't realized she had spoken. "Sure, you just said how nice it is to be back home with all the wonderful memories." He took a deep breath, and hoped fervently that he was right. 

"Oh. Yeah, I did." She smirked, as if to say, you're still good at saving face. He returned the grin. 

The waiter arrived with their meals, and asked, "Has anyone ever told you that you resemble Ender Lusek?" 

"No," he replied. 

"Oh. Have a lovely evening, then." 

"Why'd you lie to him?" Melné frowned. 

"Because if I had said, 'oh, I _am_ Ender Lusek,' people know me here, but they don't all support me. The waiter could have Imperial connections. See, the Empire's presence here is minute, which is why we can have the base, but if I go around flaunting..." 

"Wait. You're _that_ famous?" 

"You got it, Melné." 

"So do teenage girls on Naboo line up to date you? Do they put posters of you on their walls or what?" Could he be hearing _jealousy_ in her tone? No. 

He laughed. "Nah, I'm mostly known by upper-crust types. Most of Naboo has been in semi-rebellion against the Empire since the Queen's death. But the Empire, after the massacres, didn't seem to care about us. They left our world alone, and all we have is a stupid governor who wouldn't even make good rancor fodder. But he knows we've got a base here." 

"Oh." 

For the most part, they ate in unnatural silence, though Ender gaped at her all the while. She was so beautiful! Was that why the Emperor had wanted her spared? He shuddered. He didn't know what such a twisted and evil being _would_ do, and he was afraid to ask. 

After the meal, he did ask a different question. "May I have this dance?" 

She slipped her hand in his. "Of course, O famous Rebel." 

He laughed a little, wondering if she'd ever stop calling him "Rebel." Beneath the laugh, he wondered if she meant it as a compliment or an insult. 

He placed his hands on her waist, and she placed hers on his shoulders. He didn't hold her too tightly, for fear that she wouldn't want him to. A girl as beautiful as her could have her pick of any man she wanted. Why would she want _him_? They had been close friends; that was why she hadn't killed him. But she wasn't about to fall in love with him. 

Leaning in, towards her ear, he whispered, "Having fun?" In this light, her dark brown hair had red and gold accents. 

She smiled, and Ender could have melted. "How could I not?" 

With that, she moved even closer. It was all he could do to keep from squealing with joy. He held her, relishing the feeling. 

"Ender?" 

"Huh?" 

"This is really great and all, and it's been a wonderful evening. But I'm tired. I think we need to get back to base." 

He sighed and released her. Something like this couldn't last forever. "Sure, Melné." 

He handed his credit card to the maître d', who exclaimed, "You _are_ Ender Lusek!" 

"The one and only." He flashed a quick smile, then whispered to Melné, "Run." 

By the time they made it to the speeder, they were both giggling like fifteen-year-olds. We _are_ fifteen-year-olds, he reminded himself. 

"It's fine now. They'll never find us, even if they wanted to." 

"Ender," she said softly. "I don't want to insult you, but it just doesn't make any sense." 

Stymied, he sighed. "I know. It probably looks like a joke to you, and you're wondering why in all of space did the Emperor send you to kill _me_ instead of the Royal Family of Alderaan or something." 

She looked at him expectantly. 

It came out all at once: "Well, you were going to become the Emperor's Hand, right? His highest level of personal assassin. So he sent you _here_ to kill _me_ to prove your loyalty to him. We probably don't make a whole lot of difference to the Rebellion. Basically, all we are is an outpost in the middle of nowhere. Well, that's not true, but we established the base here before we knew about... about the place where our headquarters is. We don't operate from here because the Emperor will always keep a closer eye on us -- he _is_ from Naboo. We have barely any weapons; anyone of any worth to the Alliance has been sent --" 

"So what you're trying to say is that your base is a facade to drum up support on Naboo so worlds like Alderaan and Chandrila will follow suit. And my mission was unimportant, except to get rid of a bit of useless encryption in the Rebel transmissions." 

He was shocked at how she had appraised the situation. "In a roundabout way, yes. You see, as important as this is to me, Senator bel Iblis and Princess Organa don't think I'm old enough to be a commander of anything crucial. They've moved all the operations to HQ, and now all that's left on Naboo is potential commanders -- we simulate a real base and every few months, someone comes down here and decides who's a capable leader. If I'm ever good enough for them, I turn over control to Wynni and go to HQ. That's why we push each other, even though we know it isn't the actual Rebellion, not yet. Because we might make it to the real thing." 

She paled. "This is contradictory. The Emperor must know something you don't. Because he wouldn't have sent me on such a trivial mission just to prove my loyalty. He must have intercepted a transmission from Rebel HQ and stopped it from reaching you. Ender, I think you _*did*_ make it to the real thing." 

*** 

Ender lay awake for hours. Could he _really_ be good enough to send to HQ? Did the leaders need him? When was he going to receive the orders to turn over control to Wynni? Would Melné come with him? Was she lying to him on behalf of the Emperor -- trying to squeeze secrets out of him? Why had he lied and told her he didn't know where HQ was -- it was on Dantooine and he had made a few trips there -- if she was on his side? Or _was_ she? Why did he have to be in love with the enemy? No matter how he looked at it, she could either be sincere; or she could be an extremely good actress. She could be playing him right into the Emperor's hands. What Imperial secrets did she know? What Rebel secrets? 

No. Melné _was_ a Rebel now. She was with him every step of the way, and tomorrow, he would find out whether that included transferring to Dantooine. He would be a _real_ commander, training _real_ armies for battle. And he would excel. Because there was no other option. 

*** 

Ender almost fainted when he asked about his evaluation. 

He was instructed to train Khol to run the training base for the next two weeks, then report to Dantooine -- to command a squadron. 

Melné was happy for him, but she didn't want to leave so quickly. She was finally beginning to make sense out of all this, and she had to leave her home -- the home she was stolen from by the Empire -- so that Ender could have his shot at glory. She would go with him, of course, but something seemed _wrong_ with leaving so abruptly. 

"Don't you see? This is what I've been training to do since you left. You were training to become the Emperor's Hand, right? Well, this is my version. This is the best way I can get revenge on the Empire, and the Alliance thinks I'm good at it. So -- wait. You don't want to come with me, is that it?" 

She shook her head. "No, of course I want to. Something is wrong, though. I can't figure out what it is, but it's there." 

"We've still got two weeks here, so you can solve the mystery of Why Ender Getting His Very Own Command Is Bad. Relax, nothing's going to happen. You're just being paranoid." 

"Fine. You going to tell Khol any time soon, or are you going to just let her find out after you leave?" 

He laughed. "She already knows! She's really excited, because that puts her next in line to go to HQ. Just think -- if Wynni is there with us, what a great team we'd make!" 

_That_ was what was wrong. Ender had told her that the location of the Rebel HQ was so top-secret, he didn't even know where it was. But he hadn't been surprised at these orders. So that meant he had lied. 

"You knew where HQ was all along, didn't you?" she asked. 

"Well," he paused. "Um, yeah, I did..." 

"Why did you lie to me? It's on Dantooine. Did you think I would call the Emperor and tell him to blow the base out of the sky?" 

Melné regretted the words as soon as they formed on her lips. She had just made herself seem angry and unstable. What would Ender think? He'd think she _was_ still an Imperial and there was nothing he could do. And then he'd leave her here... with Khol, who would probably kill her. 

"Melné, I... I didn't know what to tell you. I knew I could trust you, I just wasn't sure how much you could handle. I _want_ you to come with me." He took her hands in his and got down on one knee. "Melné, please. Come with me. _Trust_ me." 

//You will kill Ender.// 

Melné sank to the ground beside him. "Make it stop," she whispered. 

"What?" 

"The Emperor. He keeps telling me to kill you. And I don't want to! I _want_ to go with you. I _do_ trust you. I just don't trust _myself_." 

"I can't stop the Emperor from speaking into your mind, but I can protect you from whatever he intends to do to you. And I _will_ protect you. I promise." 

"I won't be skeptical any more. I just don't know what I'm saying and what he's saying -- I can't differentiate. But I'll go with you to Dantooine. And I'll do whatever I can to help the Rebellion. I promise." 

*** 

A week and a half later, Ender felt ready to tell everyone he was leaving. He stood on the table in the mess and said, "May I have your attention?" 

Whispers circled the room. He could hear them speculating whether he had been promoted, whether the Empire was coming, whether the rest of the Rebellion was coming here, whether they would get a day off... 

He took a deep breath. "I've spent nine years here. As your leader, I guess you're all wondering what I'm doing, making some weird motivational speech or what." He paused. "I've been accepted as a commander at HQ on Dantooine." 

A cheer erupted through the crowd, and he silenced it with a wave of his hand. "I'm going to be leaving in three days, and your new commander will be Wynni Khol." He gestured towards where she was sitting. "She's going to make a great leader, but be nice to her -- she won't tolerate anything except perfection. 

"I don't want to leave Naboo in some ways -- it is, after all, my home. But this allows me the opportunity to use myself as a weapon against the Galactic Empire. I promise I'll help win this war, perhaps before any of you have to go to Dantooine. I've had a great time commanding every one of you, but now my time has come to go. Thank you." 

It began as one soldier clapping at his left, and spread across the mess like wildfire. His base, _his_ soldiers were giving him a standing ovation, chanting his name. 

"Thanks, everyone," he repeated quietly. 

It was growing louder by the minute, and he could barely hear his own thoughts over the roar of "Ender, Ender..." He was touched that they cared so much. He hadn't even made much of a goodbye speech, and here they were, applauding for him as though he had single-handedly defeated the Empire. Tears rose to his eyes, and he wiped them with his sleeve. 

Over the crowd, he heard a single voice: "Is your Imp-whore going with you?" 

Face falling, he glanced over to Melné, who was already out the door. 

He didn't care that his soldiers' confidence in him would be shaken if he followed her; all that mattered was that she understood that _he_ cared about her, that he didn't think of her that way at all, that he _loved_ her. 

He got down from his tabletop perch and ran out of the mess in the direction of his room. 

No, she wouldn't have gone there. 

Where could she be? Of course. She was in the forest, maybe near her ship, maybe already gone. now the only question was, where was her ship? 

_Think_. Was it in the clearing of reknew trees, the one where he went to write? A fairly private place nearby... it must be. Sure enough, that was where he found her. 

"Melné," he said. 

She turned away, trying to hide her sobs. "My master, he still wants me to kill you. He says, 'you will kill Ender' over and over. And the rest of the Rebels don't trust me. They think I'm -- I'm an _Imp-whore_, is that right?" She buried her head in her arms. 

"Melné, calm down. It doesn't matter what one person thinks of you, especially someone who you're never going to see again. _I_ care about you. _I_ want you to go with me. I..." he trailed off. "I will always care. So don't listen to what they say. They've never even met you. You're not an Imperial any more, and you're _certainly_ not a whore." 

She peeked out. Her voice cracking, she whispered, "Really?" 

"Really." 

She snuggled up against him, and cried. Ender was surprised to find himself crying too, for he had still not told her the truth. Melné, he said silently, I won't let anyone or anything hurt you. I love you. 

*** 

They were leaving on Melné's ship for the simple convenience that it had an Imperial hookup. Once they arrived on Dantooine, she would have to copy the files, slice them, and give them to the Rebels. 

That was not right. She _was_ a Rebel now. Despite what the memory of the Emperor might have to say about it, she wanted to destroy the Empire as much as any of them, and she was just doing her part by giving them access to the Emperor's secrets. 

Then why did it feel so wrong? 

She glanced over at Ender, who was still puzzling over the control panel. She sighed. "Need a little help?" 

"Well..." 

"_This_ is the navicomputer, and _that's_ the stuff I'm going to deal with. You do know some astrogation, right?" 

"Yeah, I'm not completely clueless. So I calculate the hyperspace jump, and you fly?" 

"You're a lot better at abstract math than I am -- especially right now, but you wouldn't know how to fly if your life depended on it. We make a good team." She paused. "I was thinking. How do you do your hyperspace jumps in the Rebellion without being detected?" 

"I thought we'd do multiple jumps; we just need to select a location, one where the Empire doesn't know you. How about... jump to Bothawui, Kashyyyk, Yavin, and Dantooine?" 

Melné's jaw dropped. "So many? Do your Rebel ships even have decent hyperdrives? We only need to make _one_ jump, but I want to know how to do it so we don't have to worry about being found." 

"Sorry. I'm used to making tons of jumps in order to evade the Imperial Fleet. I bet your hyperdrive is considerably better than any I've ever seen, huh?" 

She smiled. "The best." 

"Right. The Emperor _would_ give his assassins good equipment." 

"We can do it in one jump. I doubt on that route -- considering its obscurity -- that we'll run into any Interdictor cruisers or anything. And if we do, I think I can persuade them to let us pass." 

"I don't want to know how you intend to do that." 

"I'd transmit my clearance code, laserbrain!" She whacked him lightly on the head. "I can't believe you thought..." 

"I never said --" 

His reply was drowned out by the wail of the base's alarm system. 

"Sithspit! We gotta get out of here, fast." 

"What's going on?" 

"Invasion." 

*** 

So this was what it had come to. The Emperor thought she was either dead or captured, and he had sent the Imperial Navy, probably assisted by some of Isard's people, to uncover the truth and lay waste to the base while they were at it -- seeing as how Melné had failed her mission. She would be responsible for all these deaths... 

No. She could do something about it. 

She opened a comm channel to the base. "Melné and Ender here. We're jumping direct to Dantooine, so get as many as you can to our ship so we can get them out fast." 

Khol's voice replied, "Roger that. I'll send our officers to you. All the pilots are suiting up for battle." 

"We copy," she said. 

It hit her with the force of a cyclone: there _was_ something they could do. She and Ender would fly into battle, too. Her ship had state-of-the-art shields and was armed with two small laser cannons and four proton torpedoes. Not much, but it was fast. 

"Melné," Ender said, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"You bet I am." Into the comm, she said, "Commander. I hope the officers are waiting outside the door, because otherwise they're going to be left here. We're flying against the Navy with you." 

"Well, Melné, thank you for asking," Khol said icily. "Our officers are almost there, and I don't think you should take off without them. Or, for that matter, should you get yourself killed, what would --" 

"Shut up, Wynni. That's an order." Ender terminated the link and said, "Open the doors. Whoever is here comes with us, whoever isn't gets out some other way." 

Melné did just that, and two dozen officers poured into the confines of her ship. There didn't seem to be anyone else waiting to board, so she closed the doors. 

"All right, everyone. We're going to fight up there. Prepare for takeoff." 

She tapped at the controls and they hovered above the base. She swung the ship in a low arc, then ascended out of Naboo's atmosphere to where the action was. 

X-Wings and Y-Wings were holding off hordes of TIE fighters, while Melné was relieved to see only one Star Destroyer. This ought to be easy, she thought. 

She turned to Ender. "Calculate the jump and punch in the coordinates. Pull that lever to your left when I say so. But first, we have some havoc to wreak." 

He smiled. "Let's see what your ship can do." 

She decided to go straight for the Star Destroyer. The only way she could destroy something that big was from _inside_. Bringing her ship under the hull, she latched onto the surface of the colossal flagship right by the hangar. 

"Here's the plan. I've got some charges --" she reached under her seat and pulled out a box full of concussion grenades. Ender whistled. "-- and I'm going to get in there and blow this thing to kingdom come. This is the tricky part: I'll need someone who knows how to fly relatively well." 

An alien -- that didn't really unsettle her too much, despite her Imperial upbringing -- raised his hand. "I can fly this thing. What do you want me to do?" 

She slid out of her seat, and the... _Duros_, she realized... sat down in it. "I'm going to plant these charges in the engine -- yes, I know where it is -- and I'll give myself enough time to get back here before it blows. But you're going to lift off, clear the area, and close the door as soon as I'm inside. Then I'll take it from there." 

Ender frowned. "Are you sure --" 

"Positive. I've done this before." In simulator, she added silently. 

"What if you --" 

"I won't," she said quickly. "It'll be an _adventure_." 

"An adventure is just one desperate act after another trying to get yourself out of a whole mess of trouble, you know." He embraced her. "Be careful. And come back." 

"I will." 

"Oh, and Melné?" he said. "May the Force be with you." 

*** 

Holding the concussion grenades in one hand, Melné Cr'tor affixed the breathing piece to her mouth. She winked, and then left. 

Using the Force to anchor herself to the side of the Star Destroyer in zero-gee wasn't easy, but she made it to the hangar in a few minutes. Not a single ship or guard was left. They had probably sent everything they had against the base, which meant the Emperor had underestimated the Rebels and didn't send enough forces to destroy them. But that _didn't_ mean there weren't any stormtroopers between herself and the engine room. She wondered briefly if too much usage of the Force would tire her out, but she cloaked herself anyway. 

En route to the engine, she finally saw three stormtroopers, but they ignored her. She wondered for the umpteenth time whether this was a skeleton crew, and the Emperor had no idea of the Naboo training base's strength. 

No. The realization dawned upon her instantly. He knew perfectly well; he just _pretended_ to underestimate the Rebels. He was planning their destruction from _inside_. The Emperor was using his considerable skills at subterfuge to make it appear he thought this base was insignificant, then he would follow them to their HQ via homing beacons. She would have to discuss this with Ender later. 

Now she had a job to do. 

In the ship's engines, she placed the charges all around the room and set them for -- how long had it taken to get here? -- eight minutes. She'd have to run to make it out alive, and she wouldn't be able to deal with an assault, should it arise, but the Imperials would never know they were about to die. 

It made poetic sense: turning her Imperial-trained ruthlessness on those who had taught her. She was a Rebel now, until the end. This would prove her loyalty... was _that_ what she was doing? Trying to _prove_ that the Rebellion could trust her? She shook her head. She was _not_ going to respond to the insult flung at her in the mess by sacrificing herself. She would emerge unscathed, and the Rebels would want her, would _need_ her on their side. 

Six minutes. 

She increased her pace, and tried to focus on finding her way... no, that was silly. She knew the bowels of a Star Destroyer almost as well as she knew the Rebel base, for all the time she had spent there. She shifted her focus to Force-shielding her presence from any snooping Imperials she might encounter. Instinctively, her hand moved -- ever so slightly -- down her thigh to where her lightsaber rested. She unhooked it, hoping she wouldn't have to use it in the four minutes she had left. 

Three minutes. 

She could see her ship now, and she broke into a run. Just a little further... 

She was outside. Thankful she hadn't taken her breathing apparatus out, she scrambled down the hull of the immense Star Destroyer, almost losing her Force grip twice. 

Two minutes. 

The door opened, and she crawled in. 

"Close the doors and take off as fast as you can!" she yelled. "We have... one minute until that thing blows!" 

She felt her ship detach, and the engines strained as the Duros pilot pushed them to the edge of their limit. They were about sixty klicks away from the Star Destroyer when -- 

Now. 

As if in slow-motion, the explosion blossomed across the whole of the flagship, consuming and disintegrating it. The shock waves were heading rapidly towards them, towards the dogfight that still raged on between the now equally-matched Rebel and Imperial snubfighters. 

"Punch it!" she hissed. 

Ender pulled the hyperspace lever -- 

Melné sucked in her breath and -- 

They were safe in the realm of hyperspace, on their way to Rebel HQ on Dantooine. She had done it. She had single-handedly taken out a Star Destroyer with a few grenades. Dimly, she wondered how many others could claim that. 

"Melné! You did it! You _did it_!" Ender cried. 

"Yeah, that was..." she yawned, leaving her thought unfinished as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

*** 

She was so far away... and yet it would be so easy. To kill her -- to pinch off a blood vessel in her brain or suffocate her or just make her disappear. A pity, really. Melné Cr'tor was one of the most promising Hands he had ever trained -- and this chain of events proved it. That was why he had selected her despite her age -- six really _was_ too old as she had time to form lasting bonds with this Rebel boy. His experiment had failed. 

Even in the coldest of hearts, mused Emperor Palpatine, pity can be found. He felt... almost paternal towards his Hands, and Melné was no exception. He could not _kill_ her. Besides, she may yet be of some use to him, he reminded himself. She would be the instrument that brought the Rebellion out of hiding only to be crushed by his vastly superior fleet. She would tell the Rebel leaders some secrets, true; but nothing he couldn't afford to let them know. 

All of the truly important information the Emperor knew was kept locked safely within his own mind. 

How important could one Hand be? 

*** 

Considering the length of the hyperspace voyage from Naboo to Dantooine, it wasn't very surprising that Melné slept through most of it. Apparently her excursion into the Star Destroyer had indeed exhausted her, and she proved it admirably. When she finally awoke, she was sitting on Ender's knee, with her head resting on his shoulder. 

"Did I fall asleep like this?" she asked. 

"No, I had to move you. You were in the middle of the cockpit, stretched out, and I had to make room. Your ship is _not_ designed to hold this many people." 

"True..." she blushed. 

"I planned on staying alert the whole time." 

"Oh, my. How long have you been up?" 

"Uh," he looked at his wrist chronometer. "Maybe twenty hours on the ship, plus a few on Naboo." 

"Then get some sleep. I'll watch from here. When we come out of hyperspace, I can handle the ship alone." 

"Sure." Ender yawned, and promptly fell asleep. 

If they had been traveling for twenty hours, then that meant there were still fifteen to go. She cursed the cross-galaxy flight, and got up, off of Ender. She held his hand as she quietly floated him to the ground next to her seat. She sat down and began to wait. 

*** 

It felt so good to be planetside again, Melné thought. It wasn't that she hated space travel, but she _did_ hate transporting people on her ship -- _her_ being the operative word. She hoped she'd never have to evacuate a base again, but from her experiences in the Empire, she knew the chances of Rebel bases being discovered increased by the day. From what she had been told, the Dantooine base was built among the ruins of a Jedi academy thousands of years abandoned. If there was one thing she could count on the Emperor to be consistent about, it was the Jedi. There were Imperial moles crawling all over the Rebellion, and their choice of planet made it worse. But she could _pretend_ that they were safe for now. 

She glanced over her shoulder at Ender, who was finally awake. "I think they _might_ be waiting for you down there," she quipped. 

"Mhmmm..." 

"Go. If you don't show up, the leaders of the Alliance are going to think you aren't up to commanding their fleet." 

"Army," he corrected. "I don't know anything much about flying in combat. But I know how to sneak around pretty well." 

"Just go, will you?" 

He sighed. "If you want to get rid of me that much..." and walked down the ramp. 

She turned to watch him greet a short brunette with a hug. Just like me, she thought. But this woman was probably two or three years their senior, and Melné recognized her from somewhere... 

Of course -- Princess Leia Organa! She had her hair in two large buns on either side of her head and wore the traditional Alderaanian white. Princess Leia Organa, one of the Empire's most wanted. Here. In her presence. A snapped shot would be so easy... 

//You will kill Ender.// 

"No. I don't want to kill anyone," she said quietly so no one would hear. 

"Melné!" Ender called from the foot of the ramp. "I think I've found you somewhere to stay -- which means you don't have to sleep with me anymore." 

Oh, yes. Real smart, she thought. Just alert every Rebel here to that. Make them think the wrong thing and you'll have disrespect in your squadron. They won't take you seriously if they think you're actually sleeping with the enemy. And all we did was share a room! 

Melné descended the ramp anyway, despite the fact that she'd have to tidy her ship later. She was curious about this. And frightened. If she were to share a room with the Princess of Alderaan, she could lose control and kill her -- it would be all too easy. 

"Your Highness, this is Melné Cr'tor," said Ender. "And _this_ is Princess Leia Organa. You know, from Alderaan." 

"Am I supposed to curtsy?" 

The Princess laughed. "No, of course not. Commander Lusek says you wrecked a Star Destroyer from inside, allowing the rest of the base to escape." 

Melné nodded. 

"The Rebellion is grateful for that. We only had minimal casualties, and they were all pilots who died defending the transports." 

"What transports? I had to take --" 

The Princess looked at her quizzically. "Everyone who didn't get out on your ship took a transport. It's standard evacuation procedure." 

"Your Highness, I don't know if she's familiar with evacuations and such," Ender said. "I think she assumed if they weren't with us, they flew themselves." 

She _had_ made that assumption, but decided to keep it to herself. Instead, she asked about the possibility of a room with the Princess. 

She laughed. "No, you won't stay with me. But if you want to, you can stay with my bodyguard --" she indicated a tall, white-haired woman Melné hadn't noticed before. "This is Winter." 

Winter offered Melné her hand, and she shook it. "A pleasure. I _have _been spending a little _too_ much time with End -- Commander Lusek. It would be nice to have a change." 

"Great," said Winter. "I've been looking forward to having company as well. Just get your stuff, and I'll show you our room." 

Although most Rebels hadn't the time to get their belongings together prior to the evacuation, Melné had been leaving regardless, so the clothes Khol had given her were in the ship. She gathered everything together, and followed Winter. 

"You'll like it on Dantooine," Winter said. "Tonight, we're going to celebrate your victory." 

A victory celebration? For _her_? This _was_ going to be interesting, after all. 

*** 

Winter had provided yet another fancy dress for Melné, insisting she couldn't wear the same garment twice. This one was pale mauve silk, slipping off her shoulders gracefully into a puddle. There was a sparkly design -- which she decided was supposed to be a wave -- reaching from the right hem to just below her left breast. It was _definitely_ a good thing she was used to getting dressed up. She wondered how a Rebellion struggling for money was able to hold fancy parties fairly often. 

"There," Winter said, putting the finishing touches on Melné's hair. Despite the fact that her dark hair was chin-length, Winter had figured out an elaborate series of loops and curls for it anyhow. She understood where the Princess' famed hairdos came from. 

"Winter," Melné said. "What are _you_ going to wear?" 

"This." She produced a sheer black garment that set off her white hair. "My clothes aren't like Princess Leia's... mine are supposed to fade into the background and hers are to stand out. But her dress fits you perfectly -- you're about her size." 

"So let me get this straight: you're all going to honor _me_ for blowing up one puny Star Destroyer?" 

"No one's ever done anything like that before," Winter exclaimed. "I wonder where you learned stuff like that?" 

Aha. So Ender hadn't told them where she came from yet. Should she let them think she was an ordinary Rebel? No, Khol would tell them soon enough, and in a less favorable light. Despite Khol's friendliness, it was an act; Melné could easily see that much. But that was an issue for a later time. 

"All right," she sighed. "I used to work for the Emperor." Winter's face was unreadable, so she continued, "I was his personal assassin and I appeared in court. My job was fairly similar to yours, actually. Look pretty in front of the politicians, but take care of whatever my master needed done. I came over to the Rebellion because my master sent me to kill Ender, and I knew him from when I was a child. I couldn't kill him, and he showed me the truth." 

Winter understood the invasion. "The Empire came because they assumed you failed." 

Melné looked down, unable to meet Winter's blue gaze. "Yes." 

"We're holding a celebration for an -- an _Imperial_? How could the Princess allow this?" 

"I doubt she knows. Ender's being stupid about this and making me look like a hero. All I did was what I've been taught: search and destroy. And leave no evidence. No matter what I do, I'm still just a killer. And I'm _good_ at it, too." She buried her face in her hands. 

"I don't know what to say. I'm sharing a room with a trained Imperial assassin, who would probably love to kill me and my best friend in the whole galaxy. And take out the rest of the Rebellion with us." 

"Wait. You're not on the death lists." 

She laughed. "I'm on your death list all right." 

"_You_? Even if you were... I don't want to kill anyone. If I had the choice I would never have done it. The Emperor used his lies to twist my skills to do his bidding... and I don't want to be a part of it anymore." 

Winter's expression softened a bit. "I'll trust you, because Commander Lusek sure does. But if you do anything -- and I mean _anything_ that makes anyone believe you've returned to Imperial ways, you're going to answer to me." 

Melné didn't need to worry about her, she decided. She wasn't going to kill anyone. 

//You will kill Ender.// 

She would prove the Emperor _wrong_. 

*** 

Melné was proud of herself. She had won Winter over in the end, despite her earlier misgivings. Which meant the Princess was going to get a favorable report. 

Ender leaned over to her and whispered, "Stop worrying and eat something." 

"I'm not hungry," she retorted. 

"Fine, but just trust me for once. I'll work everything out for you. But tonight, the entire Alliance is celebrating for _us_. So enjoy yourself." 

"What do you mean, us?" 

"Tonight is my formal promotion." 

So the Rebels were showing them both off. Ender as the military genius who would lead them to victory, her as the heroine of the Second Battle of Naboo. She wasn't going to be introduced as the -- the _murderer_ that she was. Tonight she was a celebrity. She had nothing to worry about. The Rebels would never learn that about her, if she could explain to the Princess. Maybe she could even get her own little squad. She sighed. She wouldn't learn her future until later; these ceremonies were propaganda, just like in the Empire, and left everything just as ambiguous. 

Ender interrupted her train of thought. "You're about to be introduced," he said. "Break a leg. Figuratively, of course." 

"What? I have to speak? Ender, why didn't you tell me --" 

He shoved her in the direction of Princess Leia's podium. "Go now, talk later." He squeezed her hand. "May the Force be with you." 

She stepped up to stand behind and below the Princess, who was getting the Rebels' attention. 

"Good evening, everyone. Tonight, we are here to celebrate our glorious past, present, and future. As you all know, two days ago, the training base on Naboo was invaded by a small Imperial fleet. I will not go into the details of the situation. However, without the heroic actions of this young woman, the fight could have turned for the worse. It is my pleasure to introduce her: Melné Cr'tor." 

As Melné stepped up to the podium, something she would never have expected happened: there was applause. At first she thought they were applauding the Princess' calculated speech. 

No, she realized. The applause was for her, if that was even thinkable. As Emperor's Hand, she would never be recognized for anything she did, except by her master. She had lived for his praise. But it was nothing like this. This was... exhilarating. The hundreds of Rebels were congratulating her -- but for what? All she had done was _kill_. That was practically the only thing she knew. She wasn't a hero; anyone else in the same situation would have done the same. 

"Hello," she said meekly when the applause had died down. "I know you all probably think my actions were heroic, remarkable, even. But I did nothing at all impressive -- I was just repaying my debt to the Rebellion." She paused. Should she do it? What the hell -- they'd find out soon enough, and she didn't want it to be from Khol. "I used to work for the Empire, as I'm sure some of you did. But I was the Emperor's personal assassin. I am responsible for dozens of Rebel and civilian deaths -- some of whom may have been people you knew. I know the feeling of losing someone you cared about. That was why I fought against you. The Emperor told me the Rebels killed my family, and I was too young to disbelieve him. The past cannot be rewritten, however, but the future has not yet come. I pledge my skills, I pledge my _life_ to fighting the Empire. I swear I will do everything I possibly can to destroy them, because I owe each and every one of you that much. Don't applaud me -- I don't deserve it. Applaud yourselves, for making the right choice and being part of the Rebellion. I'm sorry for who I was, but not for who I am." She sucked in her breath and waited. 

For the second time that night, she was shocked. The crowd again applauded. This time there was no mistaking: it was for _her_. They believed in her. Determined not to cry, she said into the microphone, "Thank you," and stepped down. 

Princess Leia made some more remarks, carefully orchestrated to stir support and morale amongst the Rebels who had so recently lost their base. Melné paid her no attention; she was busy wondering why everyone would have such faith in her after she admitted to being one of their enemies. Maybe Ender's or the Princess' charisma rubbed off on her. It didn't matter. What mattered was that they backed her, that they trusted her, that they _accepted_ her in a way she had never felt before. 

It felt good. 

Ender stepped up to the podium, and Melné flushed with embarrassment that she hadn't been paying attention to what was perhaps the most important moment in his career. After his first comments, continuing the past-present-future theme she and the Princess had started, Melné found she could not concentrate on his words. She was paying attention to him, just not to what he was saying. Her eyes were affixed to his face, watching his lips form the words that made the Rebels love him so. 

As did she. His speech was meant to motivate the Rebels, of course, but it aroused in her a plethora of feelings, all of them intense. She blushed at the very thought. Ender Lusek, in love with _*her_,* with some ex-Imperial scum. Was it even possible? 

Apparently her emotions were obvious on her face, because a voice came from behind asking, "You really like him, huh?" 

She turned to see Winter. "Yes, I mean no, I mean well, not in that way. You know, he's my friend. Close friend. Right?" 

Winter smiled. "Whatever happened to your eloquence?" 

Melné just returned the smile with one of her own. 

Ender had finally finished receiving his own acclaim, and the soft music began. Sure enough, he asked her to dance. 

It felt wonderful to be in his arms, she thought, unconsciously molding herself to his body. It felt _safe_. 

*** 

Melné awoke to the sound of Winter's insistent voice telling her to get up. 

"Why do you need me this early? It's only 0700 hours..." 

"Princess Leia has specifically requested your presence." 

"What for?" 

"She needs you to attend this meeting." 

Melné did not want to sit in some conference this early, and she said so. 

"You have no choice." 

"Damn," she said, to which Winter smirked. 

She was led down a long hallway, with walls that arched upwards. There were a myriad of similar small rooms everywhere she looked, and Melné was glad she had not had to infiltrate _this_ base. At the end of the hallway, there was a steel door, and Winter placed her hand on the scanner next to it. The door slid open. 

The room was small, practically a cubicle, and its only furnishings were a long table and five chairs. Winter sat in the chair next to Princess Leia, and Melné was left with the chair between Ender and Khol. She briefly wondered how Khol could be invited to a meeting of such obvious prestige, and yet it made sense. The meeting was going to deal with Melné's allegiances. Thus Ender and Winter's presence, and it had been commissioned by the Princess, but why Khol? 

Unconsciously, her fingers interlaced with Ender's. 

"Excellent," said the Princess. "I hope this goes quickly, for all of our sake." 

"What?" asked Melné, incredulous. 

The Princess leaned across the table and said, "You used to be an Imperial. No matter how we slice it, you were our enemy. And there is no better way to learn about the enemy than from the enemy. We need to know what you know." 

"Translation: you're going to pump me full of drugs if I don't willingly tell you whatever it is you want." 

"No, that's an Imperial way of thinking. We don't do that to friends." 

Friends. Right. This was all carefully orchestrated to get her to leak Imperial secrets without ever having to torture them out of her. Although she suspected that if she flatly refused, it could get nasty. How had Ender ever let the Princess do this? Or had it been his idea? 

More importantly, why was she resisting? As a Rebel, she had sworn to fight the Empire, so she might as well tell the Rebels whatever she knew. 

And she did. All the while, Ender's grip on her hand tightened. He seemed nervous about this meeting, which meant all was not as it appeared. Khol's expression was unreadable; Winter was listening intently; and the Princess was intrigued by Melné's Imperial secrets -- or lack thereof. What Melné knew was limited to what the Emperor told her, and she had no delusions that he would let her in on his private plans; and whatever she could hack from the Imperial computer system. 

Finally, the Princess asked about Imperial military operations. 

"Well, apart from building the Death Star..." 

"The _what_?" 

*** 

Melné stared at Princess Leia. Apparently the Rebels weren't as well-informed as the Emperor thought. If they didn't know about the Death Star, it could obliterate the Rebellion in the blink of an eye and no one would ever know how -- except for her. 

"The Death Star is a moon-sized battle station in the early stages of construction over the planet Despayre. It is guarded by turbolasers and has enough firepower to destroy an entire planet," she said, as though by rote. In fact it _was_ rote, as she had to explain things to low-ranking Imperials on a daily basis. 

The Princess and Ender both stared at her in disbelief, while Winter blinked, as though it were a dream. Khol's expression was still unreadable. 

"Raith Sienar came up with the idea. I heard it was plotted out and designed by a genius mathematician in the far reaches of the galaxy, but I don't know who or where. All I really know is that Governor Tarkin pitched the idea to the Emperor and he liked it. It's not costing the Empire the fortune you'd expect. But if you guys don't know about it, then the Emperor was wrong," she added. 

Silence hung in the air until the Princess finally regained her composure. "Death Star. This is sick -- _exactly_ the kind of thing the Emperor would go for. But there has to be a way... Melné, do you know how it works? Or anything about its defenses?" 

She could see what the Princess was getting at. Find a weakness in its defenses and exploit it to the best of their ability. "Unfortunately, I've told you all I know. Sorry," she said, holding out her free hand. 

"We have to get the plans, then," Ender said immediately. "If we can figure out a way into the station, we could do what Melné did to that Star Destroyer. Or we could attack it from the air, except she said it's got turbolasers." 

The Princess asked, "Do you know where the plans are?" 

Melné shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I really don't know very much.. I'm just the Emperor's assassin, not a military commander. I know nothing except how to kill people... if that's even a _skill_." 

"Well, we'll have to send someone to find out where to get the plans, or to copy them." 

"I'll do it," Ender said. "I can find them, wherever they are." 

What was he thinking? Any Imperial -- even a stormtrooper -- would kill him on sight. Melné would never let Ender die again. No, to get an Imperial to divulge the secret location of the Death Star plans, it would take an Imperial. 

"No you won't," she blurted out. "_I_ have to do this. Anyone else and the Empire would figure them out. I'll go. Alone." 

Ender opened his mouth to object, but Khol spoke first. "She's right, you know. It would be too dangerous for any of us, and she could tell the Emperor she'd been captured by us and just escaped. Then she could steal the plans and get out." 

"She isn't going without me," he protested. 

"Ender," she said, turning to face him, "you know full well why I have to go. And if you come, and they kill you... Ender, I can't bear to lose you _again_." 

The Princess interrupted. "Melné, I agree with you. You leave tonight, not in your own ship -- you escaped from us, after all. I'll get someone to prepare you an X-Wing -- if you can fly it, that is." 

"I can fly anything." 

"Good. Meeting adjourned," the Princess said wearily, moving to whisper in Winter's ear. 

She could definitely get the plans, or at the very least their location, but how would she say good-bye to Ender? And, more importantly, how could she lie to the Emperor, her former master? 

*** 

That night, Ender went to see Melné one last time before she left... possibly forever. 

The lovely lavender grasses covering the planet only served to contrast the pain he would feel. Such a beautiful thing... but if the Empire uncovered the base, Dantooine would be destroyed, burnt to the ground simply to make an example for the galaxy. This is what happens to those who oppose the Emperor. 

He still couldn't understand why she had to leave _now_. It was important, of course, but there were lots of former Imperials in the Alliance. But they had all been stormtroopers or pilots. No one else had the Emperor's ear the way Melné did. He _knew_ it was the right thing for both of them to do, but why did it _feel_ wrong? It didn't seem fair. 

Nine years. They had been apart for nine years, and only reunited for less than a month. And now she was leaving him again. She pretended like it was okay, like she would come back soon, but they both knew there was a distinct possibility she would never return. 

It made him angry. In a normal galaxy, they would be normal teenagers and go to normal school and go on normal dates, things like that. But neither of them had anything close to a childhood once they were separated. They had spent two-thirds of their lives fighting for each other -- and now he had to let her go. 

Despite the pain he felt, he could never show it. He had to appear strong for Melné, because she was still shaky when it came to the Rebellion; and he had to be strong in front of the other Rebels so he could prove he was a real commander. So he did nothing except see her one last time. 

There she was. Preparing her ship to leave like she was going on a little trip, like she would be back soon. As soon as she saw him, she jumped off the ladder she was standing on and crossed the hangar to stand before him. "Ender!" 

"Hey, Melné." 

"I'm really glad you came to say good-bye," she said, meeting his golden gaze with her own brown eyes shining. 

What to say? "I hope you've enjoyed my company as much as I've enjoyed yours." Oh, great. Now she thinks you're an idiot. And probably a coward too. 

She sighed. "Of course I have." 

"I'll miss you." That's better, he decided. 

"I'll be back. I promise." But the look in her eyes said that she was not so sure, and she leaned forward to hug him. 

He never wanted to let go, to admit she was leaving. For a moment, he wrestled with the idea of kissing her good-bye. But he didn't. Best not to make any more emotions interfere with her job. 

He let go. As she pulled back, he could see her trying not to cry, the tears sparkling in her eyes made visible by the soft moonlight. 

"See you soon," he said. 

"Bye," she replied, and climbed up the ladder without looking back. 

As her ship flew away, he opened his hand and saw she had placed her ring in it. To remember her by. He slipped it onto his left ring finger and said the words he wanted so desperately to say to her: "I love you, Melné." 

But she was already gone. 

*** 

After a short hyperspace flight, Melné found herself in the government center on Bastion, an Imperial-held world close to Dantooine. She picked Bastion because Admiral Uzkeb knew her from his time on Imperial Center, and would be warm to her; and he almost definitely would take her to the Emperor. 

She had come straight into the government center from her ship and asked to see the Admiral. When the receptionist didn't comply -- as she expected -- she flashed her security clearance card. 

Within minutes she was in the Admiral's chambers, telling him how the Rebels had captured her on Naboo and tortured her, and she hadn't told them anything. Then the Empire arrived at Naboo, and she managed to steal the X-Wing in the chaos of the evacuation. She hadn't jumped straight to Imperial Center because she thought the Rebels might be tracking her. 

As she expected, the Admiral offered her sanctuary, and promised to personally accompany her to Imperial Center the following morning. Of course, she knew there were other things the Admiral wanted from her, but she would kill him shortly after they arrived on Imperial Center. 

She grinned. Sometimes being an almost-Emperor's Hand was both fun _and_ useful. 

*** 

Ender was not at all ready for his own command any more. Leia and Wynni both saw how distressed he was becoming, and decided together not to let him take command yet. It made him furious, because they were taking away what had been awarded to him, but he had to admit there _was _logic in the decision. 

He missed Melné too much. 

She may be gone, but that made him think about her all the more. He wore her ring on his finger as a constant reminder she would return. And he had started writing to her again. It seemed to be the only way he could convey anything clearly to himself. 

Frustration, longing and a thousand others swirled together to give him sleepless nights and dreary days. It was getting to the point where he could hardly tell when he was awake and when he was asleep. He didn't absorb anything anyone said to him, and all he could think of was Melné. 

Wynni knew he had never been like this before, and she took special caution in talking to him, as though he were on the verge of a mental breakdown. As he contemplated how silly that idea was, he realized the truth in it. He hadn't really eaten or spoken for several days, and as far as Wynni could tell, he was emotionally dead. 

But he _had_ been like this before. When he first joined the Rebellion. He was a nerfherder of a six-year-old then, but now he was supposed to be a brilliant future commander. _Not_ acting like this. 

He looked up, and saw Wynni standing there. "Hi," he said. 

"This isn't good for you, Ender." 

"I know. But... I can't help it. I miss her, Wynni. She's all I can think about." 

"Yeah, well, that's fine if you want to live out the rest of your life as a vegetable; but if you ever intend to command you're going to have to forget about her." 

"No!" he yelled angrily, then noticed the venom in his tone and apologized. 

"Ender," she said softly. "I know she's important to you, but you can't spend the rest of your life wishing she was here with you. She's a separate person, and she will do what she has to do. And you will do what _you_ have to do. You're being stubborn." 

"How can I do _anything_ if I don't know where she is, what she's doing, if she's even alive?" His voice strained. "It was different before. I thought she was dead, gone forever. I don't think I could stand to lose her again." 

"You may have to." 

He nodded, and said quietly, "I know." 

*** 

As soon as Melné and Admiral Uzkeb's shuttle touched down on Imperial Center, the Emperor's voice echoed in her head. 

//You have failed me. You are not fit to be my Hand. Why do you return now, when I will surely kill you?// 

She replied with thoughts of her own, carefully directed to the Emperor: //I wish only for you to forgive me, Master. The Rebels overpowered me quickly, and I had no time to react. I am at fault, Master, and I hope you can forgive me.// 

//Come to my throne room immediately. We shall discuss this further when you arrive.// 

//Yes, my master.// With that, the connection terminated. 

She immediately started to wonder. Exactly which of her thoughts did he have access to? Did he know she was plotting against him? Would she be able to lie to him? 

And, most important, why did she feel the impulse to rejoin him, the murderer that he was? 

But first, she had to attend to Admiral Uzkeb's "accidental" death. She unsheathed her vibroknife, and in a matter of seconds, it was over. The Admiral lay still. Melné gave him a little kick to assist him over the edge of the landing platform. 

She could picture what she would tell the Emperor: "He stepped too close to the edge, and I tried to warn him, I really did, but it was too late..." That would do nicely. 

The fear rose in her heart once more. For the first time, she realized that with any other enemy, she had the upper hand. She could take anything they threw at her and return it with deadly efficiency. But this was the Emperor, the man who taught her. Would she be able to outsmart; outmaneuver; and, ultimately, _outlast_ him? Were these thoughts even her own, or were they projected to scare her? She didn't know. 

She hoped she could win this round. The fate of the Rebellion depended on her. 

*** 

Ender's letters were never very long. He wrote exactly what he felt at that particular moment; and nothing more, nothing less. But he wrote constantly, because writing almost helped. Despite the fact that his old reknew sanctuary was gone, and he had to make do with the Dantooine base, he wrote countless letters to Melné. 

That morning, he took all of his letters and erased them. 

He intended to write _one_ concise letter spelling out everything, and then send it to her. Keying in his password -- her name, of course -- he began to write: 

_Dear Melné,_

_I miss you more than words could ever say. Now that you're gone, every day is empty. All I want, all I ever think about is the chance to be with you again. It makes my heart ache to think where you are, what you're doing; because I know that I'm not with you, and that is the worst part. It all comes down to this: ever since we both got involved in the war, you were my cause, the ideal I fought for. But who am I without you?_

_I'm certainly not commander material anymore. I need a shoulder to cry on, but I've closed everyone off because I'm afraid of what they might tell me. They would tell me to forget about you; and although you're gone, I will never forget you. Ever. I'm nothing without you, Melné. Come back to me._ _I love you with all my heart._

_Love,_

_Ender_

__

__His finger hovered over the "transmit" button, but suddenly he wondered where he would send it. He didn't even know where she was, so how could she receive it? The holonet broadcast messages and files, but they were open for anyone to see. How to get around that? 

He encrypted the message and put two layers of passwords on it. Now all he had to do was hope she'd find it. The letter needed a name she would recognize. 

_Gone But Not Forgotten_. 

It sounded like a bad holodrama, but she would see it, he hoped. 

That was when he realized what he felt. Despair. She would never look for his messages on the holonet, never read it -- why would she -- and maybe never come back. The Emperor could still twist her mind. How would she be able to resist? But he knew the answer -- 

Because he would rescue her. 

*** 

It was perpetually twilight in the Emperor's throne room. Melné's former master sat in a chair that curved sharply downwards, his evil gaze staring out from beneath his hood. 

"Take me back," she said. 

"A little hasty, are we not?" 

"Master, I _know_ it was substandard for me to allow the Rebels to capture me, and I realize when I made my mistake. It was when I went through the roof. I had no idea how many of them were inside, and if they were armed. I basically dropped into a trap." A trap that told me the truth, that liberated me from your way of thinking. 

"If my Hands were all so careless, would the Empire be in power in the galaxy?" 

"I know I wronged, Master. But I escaped. And I told them nothing, _nothing_ at all. They tried to pump secrets out of me, but I stood up to them. They _are_ horrible. Now that I've seen the Rebellion with my own eyes, I'm more convinced than ever to destroy them." You. To destroy _you_ and your whole Empire. 

The Emperor smiled, and it took all of Melné's concentration not to shudder in revulsion at his true self. "My young apprentice, tell me. What did they ask of you?" 

"They wanted to know where the Death Star is being built. And all about your plans to annihilate them. I bet you want to know where _their_ base is, but I never found out. I escaped as soon as your fleet came to Naboo." 

The Emperor considered for a moment, as if weighing her argument against whatever he thought. "Your skills are too valuable to me. Your loyalty is absolute, and you have proved that to me. I will allow you the position of my Hand." 

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, my master." As she said it, she wondered how much truth was in those words. 

"Return to your quarters. I will allow two days rest before your next assignment. Dismissed." 

She had two days to discover the location of the Death Star plans. 

The time frame did not worry her; she had worked on more demanding tasks before. She was nervous that in two days, she would come to see the Emperor as her master again. She didn't know what his powers of coercion were like, but was sure they were, well, powerful. It would be difficult if not impossible to prevent him from getting what he wanted, and if he wanted her under his absolute control, he would have it. She could never allow that, because thinking it would make her believe it, and then all would be lost. 

She would not give in to the Emperor. No matter what he did. 

At that moment, horror washed over her. What if the Emperor sent another Hand to kill Ender? Was that why she was given _two_ days respite from work? If it came down to using Ender as a bargaining chip, she would have no choice but to do anything and everything necessary for him to live. 

Even if it meant helping the Empire. 

*** 

Emperor Palpatine smiled as the blast doors slid shut behind the girl, and took a moment to reflect on the current state of affairs. 

Melné was no match for Palpatine, the man who had usurped his throne right out from under the democratic Republic. She thought she could defeat him by lying, she thought that he did not see through her like transparisteel. She thought her actions were her own, but he was controlling her like a puppet: pull a string here, tug a thread there. 

He _could_ just kill her... 

No, thought the Emperor. He would wait the allotted two days and _then _her fate would be sealed. He may be a Sith Lord -- the one who took vengeance on the Jedi, he thought wryly -- but he was not wasteful the way Lord Vader was. He would let events transpire as they would; then he would twist them to suit his purpose. As he had always done. 

Then he laughed. Melné, my Hand, you have survived the test thus far. But will you survive this? 

*** 

Ender Lusek wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. Almost there, he told himself. He couldn't turn around, not when he was this close. Melné was on Imperial Center, a mere hour away. And then -- 

What did he think he was doing, anyway? How would he get past hundreds of Imperials and the Emperor himself? He hadn't even given his plan much thought. If it could even be considered a plan. 

Winter did things like this all the time. But he couldn't have asked her because she would have told Wynni not to let him go, which in turn would dissolve all hopes of ever seeing Melné again. Unless they met somehow... as enemies. 

Why had he let her leave? By now, she was either dead or she belonged to the Emperor once more. She was strong, but the _Emperor_ -- how could she resist _him_? Nothing he could do would help her -- it would probably impede her judgment -- but for better or for worse, he had to see her. 

Abruptly, he jolted forward. What...? He had been paying so little attention to the ship that he hadn't noticed he'd come out of hyperspace. He must have been on autopilot. Checking the coordinates, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was orbiting Imperial Center. Now all he had to do was get onto the planet surface and find one woman in the colossal galactic capital -- crawling with Imperials, no less -- and get back to Dantooine without being tracked. 

For the thousandth time, he wondered if there was any hope of finding her, a corusca gem in the dark Imperial cavern. 

*** 

After thirteen hours, Melné had finally found the location of the Death Star plans. It hadn't been too difficult. It had taken so long because she had to cover all her tracks, which required that she write programs to erase her presence on the Imperial system, though her knowledge of it gave her an advantage. But she found it and all the details for the Rebel operative who would have to get them. With her luck, she mused, it would be her putting her life on the line. Sliding out of her chair, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. As she fixed a few pieces back into place, her hand slid down to finger the empty chain at her neck. 

And for the second time since she left, she thought of Ender. What if the Emperor had already laid waste to the Rebel base? Was he still alive? Was he thinking of her? 

She shook her head. The Emperor didn't know where the base was. Of _course_ he was alive. She would know if he died, she would feel it through the Force. Their bond was strong enough for her to at least _know_. 

The final question still remained: was he thinking of her? She supposed he would; after all, he thought of her every day when they were separated. But what if Khol had convinced him she was never coming back, that she had gone to tell the Emperor all the Rebel secrets and order them wiped out? 

Lying down on the sleep-couch she had always been glad to return to, she felt uncomfortable. The Rebels had trusted her with their most precious secret, the one that could destroy them. Here she was, in the Emperor's midst, and all she could do was hope he wouldn't ask directly about the Rebel base. She couldn't protect them forever. She would have to leave immediately with the datadisk she had made of the Death Star plans. 

No, not yet. She would be safe for thirty-five more hours. She could sleep first. 

But Melné could not sleep, for fear that the Emperor was waiting for a moment of vulnerability -- sleeping would be ideal -- to pierce her mind and steal her thoughts. 

She fell asleep after six hours. 

*** 

It had taken some doing, but Ender had figured out a way to get into the Imperial Palace: become an Imperial. 

Although he was in a hurry, Ender couldn't help but admire the graceful spires of the Imperial Palace. And yes, it _was_ beautiful, with rainbows streaming in the windows and the marble floors lined with ch'ala trees. A truly majestic building, a monument to greatness. Yet it was built for the wrong government. The Republic should have had a palace like this, he decided. And Melné had lived here half her life. No wonder she was put off by the base -- in comparison to this majesty, the base was a speck of dirt. 

The next step was to look like either an important bureaucrat or an Imperial soldier, either of which would let him slip unnoticed through the corridors of the palace. He could go as he was, but then he'd risk questioning by the multitude of stormtroopers milling about, just waiting to ask him what he was doing there. And Ender was _positive_ he couldn't come up with a decent or believable answer. 

Or was the Emperor so arrogant that he would allow any riffraff into his stronghold and let his assassins deal with them? 

Assassins like Melné. 

He shook the thought out of his head. She would never kill him. She had her opportunity, and that was _before_ she knew the truth. But her loyalty to him did not guarantee the Emperor didn't have anyone else who would gladly kill him without a thought -- apart from _Rebel scum_, that is. 

This was silly, Ender decided. How would anyone know or even suspect that he was anything but a citizen of Imperial Center? 

On impulse, he sauntered up to a pair of stormtroopers near a balcony. "Hey, guys!" he yelled. 

Both turned to look. "Who are you?" 

"Sorry guys," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I'm late, and I can't seem to find my armor anywhere." 

"Who are you?" repeated the other, albeit reluctantly. 

"I'm, uh, TK-422. Reporting for duty." If this doesn't get me caught, he decided, then I guess I'm home free. 

The two stormtroopers looked at each other, and then one said, "Oh, right -- maybe we were at the Academy together? On Carida." He paused, mulling it over, and then said: "Come along and I'll get you dressed in uniform." 

Ender breathed a silent sigh of relief as one of the stormtroopers led him through a myriad of corridors, some of which were open-air, allowing a beautiful view of the city -- truly the undisputed crown jewel of the galaxy. It ought to belong to the people. 

After admiring the beauty of Imperial Center and reflecting on the Emperor's perverted theft of it in a seemingly endless loop of thought, he was snapped out of his reverie by the stormtrooper's tinny voice: 

"Go ahead and get suited up." 

He stripped off his flight suit and pulled on the stormtrooper armor. The black body glove was tight, and it itched. The white plates restricted his movement. Worse, he couldn't see too well through the helmet. How can they fight in these? he wondered. 

"Thanks," he said cheerfully. "I'm off to my post now." 

"Where are you going?" 

"Oh, just one of the residential levels." 

"Which floor?" 

Ender pondered. "One of 'em -- they all look alike anyways. Thanks again," he added. 

"No problem. Just a little favor from one soldier to another." 

Ender just smiled under his helmet and set off to find Melné. 

*** 

Melné awoke to the chime sounding at her door. Who could come to disturb her now? Had her time already run out? No, her chronometer told her she still had twenty-one hours left. She groaned and shuffled over to the door, palming it open to reveal a stormtrooper. 

Her wrist blaster was drawn within seconds. 

"No, wait -- Melné -- don't kill me, I --" 

Impossible. How could some dull-witted stormtrooper know her? 

He removed his helmet to her sharp intake of breath: he was Ender. Why? He knew very well that all he'd accomplish was getting himself killed. It smacked of the fairy tales they had read in their youth -- the handsome and dashing prince took stupid risks in order to rescue the gorgeous princess from evil -- and they _always_ lived happily ever after. 

She wanted to reprimand him, but then thought better of it and closed the door behind him so as not to arouse suspicion. An Emperor's Hand arguing with a stormtrooper -- preposterous! 

"I can explain --" 

"You're a fool! Why did you come?" 

"Melné --" 

Now she was getting agitated. "Ender. You deliberately put your own life in danger -- sith, you put the fate of the entire Rebellion in danger -- did you think I couldn't handle this? I've been through much worse before and I do _not_ need your help. Now you're going to get yourself killed -- not by me, by some other Imperial -- we're in the _Imperial_ Palace, you know." 

"No, I won't," he replied coolly. "I needed to make sure the Emperor couldn't exert any influence over you and make you loyal to him again. I was right. Wasn't I?" he repeated as though he felt he had to defend himself to her. 

"Who the hell do you think you are? Some kind of fairy tale prince? Well, I'm not the damsel in distress you were expecting. I was doing quite well for myself until you got here." She held up the datadisk. "I was going to leave as soon as --" 

"As soon as what? As soon as you let the Emperor seduce you? As soon as you forgot me?" He looked away, breaking eye contact, which was something he _never_ did. "You're not strong enough to resist him and... I can't bear to lose you again." 

"That's --" she broke off. He was right, was always right, even if she hated him for it. She should have left the instant she found the files. Deep inside, some part of her _wanted_ to go back to the Empire. Tears sprang to her eyes. 

"Oh, no. Don't cry on me, not now. Don't tell me..." he trailed off. Despite what he had said before, they both knew that she was confirming his worst fear. She was settling back into old patterns. He took a deep breath. "Melné, I..." 

"Whatever I was starting to think, it could never continue, not with you here. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." 

Instinctively, he drew her into his protective embrace, and whispered into her ear, "That's not what it was about and we both know it." He did not say anything more, just held her there, and she felt safe again. 

*** 

The next morning, she shook Ender awake. "We have to get out of here now," she insisted. "We slept -- our time is almost up!" 

He sighed theatrically. "Do we _have_ to?" 

"Yes." 

"Aw, please, just let me stay in the capital one more day. I promise to be good." 

"Ender," she hissed, "this isn't funny. You're going to die if you stay here and you'll be endangering my life, too." 

He sat up on the sleep-couch. "So what do you propose? Tell the Emperor you're going on vacation with the Rebel you were supposed to kill and you'll be back as soon as you're done betraying him?" 

"We need a plan." 

Now he was being stupid out of habit. "Really. I would have never guessed." 

"So, O Brilliant One, got any ideas?" 

He told her the escape plan he had concocted that night. It sounded foolproof. She would use the Force to anchor them upside-down to the ceiling, just as she had done on the side of the Star Destroyer that she had blown up what seemed like lifetimes ago. They would then simply walk to safety. He would then pay a pilot to take them to Alderaan, and from there they could get transport to the base easily. 

"Problem: I can't float _both_ of us." 

"Have you tried? Remember back on Naboo, I asked you if you could, and you said probably. I didn't push it because you were tired and confused. Well, now it's _my_ turn. I can't see why we can't wait a day or two -- I'm not really up to this. You think of a better idea." 

Melné admitted she couldn't. But what had he meant, not up to it? 

He looked away, the way he always did when he was serious. "I -- I almost had to kill a stormtrooper to get the armor, and I would've done it, too. But then I talked to him and he was just like me. Young, pretty smart, but he was Imperial. It was like a mirror image of myself if all that... stuff hadn't happened." 

Aha. This explained the strange mood he was in. He had been joking around in order to avoid confronting his own fears. He, too, was afraid of slipping and falling to the Empire. The tables had turned, and he needed her love as much as she needed his. 

"Ender," she began. "I understand. I killed so many innocents that the one you contemplated killing was nothing. Don't worry. If you feel any regret, that's the mark of compassion. You haven't become a monster like the Emperor. You could never be like him, because he rules through fear. He doesn't even care about the people he uses: not me, not anyone. You can lead others through love, and that's a more powerful tool than any the Emperor could ever hope to wield." 

"But don't you understand? That's _exactly my point_. I almost killed someone who was just like me, someone who I could've come to care about." 

For the first time since he arrived, he looked straight into her eyes, that soul-penetrating stare that made her feel naked before him -- and not mind one bit. Here was someone just as muddled as she. His own values were being tested just as hers had been at the beginning of this... adventure. Ender was human, he made mistakes, and Melné didn't care about them. She loved him more than she ever knew one person could love another, and yet it was blindingly obvious he loved her even _more_. She had hardly given him a second thought during her absence, and he dwelt on missing her. Here was a man she didn't deserve. But, by some strange twist of fate, he loved her. 

She slowly shifted her weight on the sleep-couch, and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. "I know," she said. "I tried to kill you, remember?" 

"But that was before. Before you knew..." 

"I still almost did it, I would've done it if you hadn't turned around, and I'd have done it again the same way. But I didn't, and now you're here and I'm here." 

In answer, he moved his face toward hers, and she turned away. 

"No," she breathed. "Not yet. We still have to get out of here. Then we'll have plenty of time to, ah, discuss feelings." 

"Right," said Ender. 

*** 

Melné had changed Ender's escape plan a little bit, and now they were actually going through with it. She found that she _could_ float the two of them, and that her Force powers were stronger than she imagined. Either she had learned something new, or she was drawing on the presence of the Emperor -- she had never really used the Force on Imperial Center -- or maybe it was Ender who was strengthening her. As long as it never came to combat, they'd be fine. 

That didn't ease her worries, it only confirmed them. If anyone in the Grand Corridor looked at the ceiling, they would be in massive trouble. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to hold off more than a few Imperials, especially not in the state she'd be in after such heavy Force usage. And she had no idea how good, if at all Ender was at personal combat. 

So she took special measures. They were carrying a good chunk of her private arsenal as Emperor's Hand: a gun on each hip, a wrist blaster, three grenades, and -- of course -- her lightsaber. We'll be fine, she repeated to herself. 

Ender sandwiched her hand between his, just as he had done when she still thought the Rebellion was evil. It had come full circle. Now was the time she had to prove her loyalty to the Rebels. To Ender. And she prayed she could pull it off. 

"Hold on," she said. 

And she concentrated hard on the image of them floating in the air, then standing upside down on the ceiling. She opened her eyes and -- 

They were. She had been able to defy gravity through the Force. Now, she thought grimly, all she had to do was maintain it. She took a deep breath, and they walked through the door and down the corridors of the Imperial Palace upside-down. 

*** 

At the shout from below, Melné's eyes shot open, trailing downwards. 

And of course, what she saw confirmed her worst fear: they had been spotted. Not by some lowly technician, either. Standing beneath them was a Royal Guard, resplendent in the crimson cloak that was characteristic of the Emperor's elite soldiers. 

"Shavit," she whispered. 

The rainbow lights glinted off the guard's mask, making it difficult for her to look at him, and thus blocking him from her Force influence. Not as though she could do so many things at once, anyway. 

That meant she would have to fall. She caught Ender's golden glance, and he nodded minutely. Still holding his hand, they half-floated, half-fell to the floor; careful not to land too close to the guard. 

As they fell, she drew her lightsaber in her left hand and ignited it, the red blade springing to life with a _snap-hiss_. In the same movement, she let go of Ender, flipped over the guard's head, and landed behind him, ready to strike. 

The guard anticipated her move, however, and spun around quickly, catching her legs in the slippery folds of his cloak. She tried to regain footing, but found the standard-issue vibroblade pointed at her throat. 

In the split-second she had, she kicked the guard in the groin and somersaulted farther away. Eyes darting frantically, she tried to think of a way to escape unharmed when she remembered the lightsaber she still held. She advanced towards him while he was still on the ground, holding her lightsaber cautiously. 

Immediately, his massive gloved hand reached out and caught her by the wrist and twisted, simultaneously flinging her lightsaber down the corridor with a clang and breaking the bone with a sickening snap. 

She bit her lip and tried to ignore the pain, realizing the guard had the advantage of full-body armor, so she wasn't likely to accomplish much without a weapon. One kick aimed perfectly at his head ought to allow her a few seconds to retrieve the lightsaber -- 

And she missed. 

The guard caught her leg in midair and was holding her by the ankle, her head a foot above the floor. She twisted in his grip, but to no avail. The other gloved hand was already fastening her wrists behind her back with binders. Then, still ignoring Ender, he dropped her to the ground. She had no hands to brace her fall with, and from the sharp pain piercing her chest, she thought a rib or two might be broken. 

Finally, the guard spoke, breaking through the heavy breathing all around: "The Emperor will want me to bring to him his prisoners." 

Melné's vision swam, and she tried to look over the guard's shoulder -- to see what had happened to Ender -- but he was completely blocked. She tried to think of a sarcastic reply to the guard, but when she opened her mouth, blood came out. How could she have been beaten so easily? 

"Not beaten yet," she said hoarsely. 

The guard laughed. 

*** 

The guard laughed like he had won. Ender was furious and afraid all at once. His fury came from the guard's overconfidence -- surely Melné could do something with the Force and heal herself; his fear came from the fact that he was sure it was impossible. Unless he did something, they would both die. But what could _he_ actually accomplish? Melné, who had spent most of her life training for this sort of combat had been defeated easily. He didn't stand a chance, unless he could convince him... 

He removed a shoulder plate from the stormtrooper armor he still wore and threw it at the guard, who wheeled around to face him. 

"Rebel scum," said the guard. 

"Imperial slave," Ender retorted. 

"The only slaves in the Empire are those who are inferior." 

"You're just the Emperor's pawn, can't you see? _That_ makes you inferior, the inability to make your own choices." 

"I made a choice when I saw you -- not to go get the Emperor. Be thankful." 

Ender tried to think faster: what was the Royal Guard's main purpose? "The _Emperor_ just uses you to kill innocents. There's no honor in that." 

"Merely _being_ a member of the Emperor's Royal Guard is honor more than you'll ever see!" With that, the guard leaped towards him. 

He had done it. He had provoked the guard, but not as he planned. His Empire to Rebel conversion didn't work the same way on a stranger. 

Ender glanced around quickly. Melné's lightsaber was lying a few feet down the corridor -- too far for him to go if it would mean turning his back on the attacker. He should have asked her to teach him when they were still on Naboo -- teach him about the Force, about unarmed combat, about _anything_ that could potentially help him -- but it was too late for that now. At least this time he recognized the need to win -- permanently. If he could somehow kill the guard, he would do it. The problem was that he couldn't innovate fast enough with an armored killing machine bearing down on him. 

Suddenly a cold metal object was in his palm. His eyes lowered to see what it was, and sure enough, it was her lightsaber. He ignited it and brandished the red blade, hoping he could figure out how to use it within the second. 

Holding it high, he hesitated. Still afraid to kill, aren't you? Can't do it, can you? Ender realized that he wasn't much use to the Rebellion if he couldn't actually bring himself to dispatch even one single Imperial, but negotiation hadn't worked on one as fiercely loyal as this. There simply was no alternative. One day, he vowed, my children won't have to make this decision, won't ever have to take a life. 

But that day was not today. 

The lightsaber he held, weapon of beauty and destruction, salvation and evil, connected with the guard's helmet. 

*** 

Ender turned away from the dead guard, lightsaber off. Slowly, he inhaled. The air smelled like ozone; it pressed like it wanted to strangle him. Breathing more quickly, he kept thinking: I killed him. I had to! But I still killed him. And he argued the paradox with himself -- one part of him taking the blame, the other taking credit -- for the next few seconds. Was taking the guard's life justified by his own survival? 

He concluded that it was necessary, but was he not allowed to feel regret? 

"We all do." 

Melné was standing behind him, but her left wrist was bent to a ludicrously unnatural angle. Her other injuries had pretty much been alleviated; she had stopped all the blood flow and healed the gash in her abdomen, presumably by using the Force. But she still looked halfway to dead. 

Turning his body to face her, Ender gasped. "Sith, Melné, are you okay?" 

She smiled. "I've been worse." 

It was like she had been resurrected -- it was almost uncanny. Her being all right -- or mostly so -- was unfathomable to him. 

She must have noticed his expression because she said: "Not yet. We still have to get out of here." 

"Hang on," he said. Then he picked her up and carried her out of the Imperial Palace, ignoring Melné's insistence that she could walk. 

*** 

All in all, the Emperor did not mind. Let the girl think she's escaped. One day, he mused, she might grow strong and be a threat to him. But not if she kept up her relations with the Rebels; then she would die with the rest of them. No need to waste effort on killing her singularly. 

And the commander, Ender Lusek. He was proving to be much more resourceful than the Emperor had originally pegged him. Perhaps a great irony could be served, and _he_ would be made into the Emperor's servant and sent to kill _Melné_. 

No, he decided. The Rebels would die when their time came. Patience had served the Sith in conquering the Jedi, once and for all; he would not renege on that now. His weapon was already planted; the trap just needed to be sprung at the appropriate time. 

That time would be soon, and he was content to wait. 

*** 

They had escaped from Imperial Center with no further incident. The last few days had been a blur: the journey to Alderaan seemed to have taken twice the normal duration. The peaceful sanctuary world was where they were now. Ender Lusek sighed. Just out the open window of his chambers was a forest of pink hydenock trees, above which flew graceful thrantas. The sun was setting in shades of orange and pink -- it was getting late, he thought as the cool breeze ruffled his hair. I could stay here forever... 

He had to tell her. 

It was the one thing on his mind since they had arrived. She had spent most of the time resting -- in and out of bacta treatment -- as she recovered. Her wrist and other injuries were fine now. She was as ready as she'd ever be for him. 

But was _he_? 

He knew it was the only time he could do it. Wait any longer and any number of terrible things could happen. Then again, they might not. Who knew, in this ever-changing galaxy, if any given moment might be their last? Everyone had to take it day-by-day; everyone made decisions that would change their lives without seeing the impact they would have. It was his turn. 

He knocked on her door. 

*** 

Melné Cr'tor heard the knock on her door and assumed it was Winter -- who had arrived back on Alderaan with the Princess while she was on Imperial Center. 

"Come in," she called. She felt a lot better than she had a few days ago -- but she assumed Winter just wanted to make sure. 

The door opened and Ender stepped tentatively inside. 

"Sorry. I was just..." Melné mumbled, turning away, biting her nail. 

"Looking at the forest?" he finished. 

"Yes," she said, avoiding his gaze. She was a little embarrassed. She certainly hadn't been expecting him at this hour. She was only wearing a white slip -- something she never would have done if she had known he would come. For some reason, it was suddenly taboo for him to see her like _this_ -- why should it matter after all they had been through? 

"Ever wonder..." he trailed off, unable to say more. 

"Wonder what?" She finally met his gold eyes with her brown ones. "What in the Empire are you trying to tell me, anyways? I don't do that mind-reading thing." 

Great. Now I sound like I'm upset. 

He took a deep breath, and out came the words, tumbling and barely audible: "Melné, I -- I love you." 

"I know." 

His insecurities showed, his voice faltered; he obviously didn't know what to make of that. So Melné did the only thing that made sense -- 

She took a step towards him; reached up. Her lips pressed gently against his neck, his ear, his cheek. 

"_What_?" 

She giggled. "Oh. I suppose you were expecting me to say, 'I love you, too?' Ender," she whacked him on the shoulder with the side of her hand. "Ender, of course I do!" 

"Are you sure you can't read my mind?" 

She simply smiled. 

And then, after what seemed like forever and an instant at the same time, Melné's lips met Ender's. It wasn't the wild passion she had been expecting -- in fact, it was rather sweet; a culmination of their nine-year odyssey, together and apart. 

It was nice. 

Melné knew then that even after everything, after all her mistakes and illusions, after learning to trust the Rebellion, after _all_, there _was_ a picture-perfect ending. Not an ending, she thought -- a new beginning, one for her to share with Ender. 

Forever and ever. 

*** 


End file.
